One of the Boys
by aaliona
Summary: A series of oneshots based on One of the Boys by Katy Perry. Stories are in order of album. Written for the "Make an Album into a Story Competition" by xBeautifulTragedy; GWHP, HGDM, PPDM, LBRW, HGRW, and more!
1. One of the Boys

**Song: One of the Boys  
><strong>**Charcters: Ginny and Harry**

__The way  
>You look at me<br>Is kinda like  
>A little sister<br>You high five  
>Your goodbyes<br>And it leaves me  
>Nothing but blisters<br>__

_So I don't want to be  
>One of the boys<br>One of your guys  
>Just give me a chance<br>To prove to you tonight  
>I just wanna be<br>One of the girls  
>Pretty in pearls<br>Not one of the boys  
><em>**  
><strong>

I really don't appreciate waking up early because my brother is screaming his head off right outside my bedroom door.

"Honestly Ron!" I snapped as I stomped my foot down onto the source of his panic. "Are you sure I'm not the one supposed to be going to Hogwarts? You're still babyish enough to be afraid of spiders."

I left my youngest older brother gasping and squawking in the hall as I returned to my room for a little more sleep before we left for London.

Later that day I'd see for the first time a boy who would capture my heart forever. Until that point I'd never even thought about whether or not boys noticed me. I was ten; it was irrelevant. When Ron came home after break, I spent weeks begging him to invite Harry over. He'd always snap that he had, Harry hadn't replied yet, leave him alone. I'd huffed and walked away more than once. I'd given up on seeing him before school started and then woken up one morning to find him in my kitchen.

For the next few years I trailed him off and on, able to spend time with him, but not truly be with him. Playing Quidditch with him showed me just how much of a little sister he saw me as. After the Cho Chang incident, I made it my mission to change.

I'd dated a few boys (as an attempt to forget about Harry) and knew what kind of girl attracts attention. I could become that girl without becoming my mother's worse fear. I read Witch Weekly and several muggle magazines to figure out exactly how to pull off my transformation.

Step one: Dean Thomas.

Dean was a really sweet guy, and one I could truly have a good time with until we broke up. He was an amazing artist and loved to draw me. I enjoyed being with him.

Step two: become slightly more feminine without completely losing Quidditch Girl Extraordinaire look.

The muggles uses something called a straightening iron to make their hair super-straight. This just sounds strange to me since irons are for clothing, not hair. I don't have to worry; my hair is naturally stick-straight. I do buy make-up and spend most of the summer experimenting with it in the bathroom. Only Hermione knew what I was up to.

I believed it was working. At random moments, I'd find Harry looking at me. With the attention from Dean and potential attraction from Harry, I was feeling on top of the world.

Step three: don't drop everything you've worked for to nab Harry.

Dean and I did have something magical while it lasted. I'm very glad I didn't break-up with him right away. Slowly, we were working less and less. The snogging was amazing, but our other interactions were not. We started fighting constantly. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and broke up with him.

I felt so suddenly empty with no one to tell my secrets and angsty with no one to snog. It sounds petty, but I missed him most for that. Dean had been my secpnd kiss (after Michael), and I would never forget that. Even the boys I attracted after weren't quite worth it so I refused to date.

Then we won. And Harry kissed me. I'd purposely not gone running to him hoping this day had come. I had sewn my oats - well, a few of them - believing he would come. I love it when I'm right.

Deep down, I know that I didn't really change for Harry. I put more stalk my appearance, but I'm still the same little Quidditch playing tomboy I always have been.

_And I walked  
>Right into school<br>And caught you  
>Staring at me<br>'cause I know  
>What you know<br>But now you're gonna have  
>To take a number<br>It's OK  
>Maybe one day<br>But not until you give my  
>Diamond ring<br>__~Katy Perry  
><em>


	2. I Kissed a Girl

**Song: I Kissed a Girl  
>Characters: Cho Chang, Megan Wilson (OC), Mariette Edgecombe, Terry Boot<strong>

_I kissed a girl and I liked it,_  
><em>the taste of her cherry chapstick.<em>  
><em>I kissed a girl just to try it,<em>  
><em>I hope my boyfriend don't mind it.<em>  
><em>It felt so wrong,<em>  
><em>it felt so right.<em>  
><em>Don't mean I'm in love tonight.<em>  
><em>I kissed a girl and I liked it (I liked it).<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>

Cho wasn't in a very party-friendly mood, but Marietta had spent twenty minutes pleading with her to come down to the common room. Once she'd gotten there, Cho had to wonder why they were considered the smartest house. Umbridge and her cronies were apt to pop up at any moment. Why were her housemates flirting with danger and Firewhiskey? She shook her thoughts away and joined right in, downing three shots in the first five minutes. The drunker she got, the fouler her mood. She started crying, though she couldn't reason why.

"There, there," Marietta said, patting her shoulder. "Cedric wouldn't have wanted you to be so sad all the time."

Cedric? Cedric who? She giggled. "Well okay." She stood and grabbed Marietta's hand. Some kids were playing music in the corner and had started a dance party. Cho rushed right to them.

In her intoxicated state, Cho didn't notice all the strange looks she was attracting for acting so different than normal. Her mind was telling her to dance, and her limbs moved of their own accord. Cho was flailing around, bumping into everyone around her.

Someone stuck their foot out and she fell, toppling right onto the girl in front of her.

Cho opened her eyes to find her face plastered into the girl's chest. "I'm so sorry," she said as she looked up into the girl's face. Cho didn't know who she was or what she was going through, and she didn't know how to react when the girl wrapped her arms around Cho and pulled her into a rib-bruising hug. After freezing for a moment, Cho felt her unknown sadness come back. The girl was a lifeline, her hug keeping Cho in reality or, at least, in her alcohol-hazing version of it. Wrapping herself around the other girl, Cho smiled at her and said, "This is nice."

Had Marietta still been dancing by Cho when they'd fallen, she would have pulled Cho to her feet and drug her to their room. But she wasn't.

Anyone who noticed the two girls on the floor embracing diverted their eyes and shuffled away to find their friends.

The girl stated up at Cho with a blank expression for a moment before breaking into a drunken grin. "I like you," she replied.

Before her sober mind could even begin to peak through, Cho leaned down and placed a sloppy kiss on the girl's mouth.

In her state, Cho didn't even recognize that this was Megan Wilson, the only girl Cedric had dated before her. Neither she nor Megan remembered that Megan had come up to her in the corridor the day after Cedric had asked Cho out, or that Megan had then called her an Asian slut. Neither remembered that Cho had run away crying and Megan had lost fifty points from Ravenclaw over the racial slur.

All the girls remembered was that they'd been knocked to the floor together. After Cho's kiss, Megan kissed her back. The two started making out passionately, not stopping until Marietta and Terry Boot pulled them apart.

"What do you think you're doing?" Marietta demanded (with no answer) as Terry said to Megan, "I thought you were straight! I won't date girls that swing."

Megan giggled, "Swing? How can I swing? There's no swing set." She turned to Cho. "Do you see a swing set?"

Cho furrowed her eyebrows. "I- I don't think so..."

Marietta sighed. "Quit acting stupid! I thought you were into Harry and, more importantly, guys. Why would you kiss her?"

Cho blinked at her friend in surprise. "Why not? She's nice."

Nose flaring, Marietta grabbed Cho's arm and glanced at Terry. "Keep your girlfriend controlled. Cho doesn't do these things." With that, she turned on her heel and harshly yanked Cho along as she headed for their room.

Cho whined, "But I don't wanna leave the party yet."

Marietta didn't reply.

With a sigh, Cho looked back to Megan. She lifted a hand and fluttered her fingers, as if to say, "Bye, bye."

Megan returned the gesture, and for once, Cho went to bed in an okay mood. Waking up was a slightly different story.

_No, I don't even know your name, it doesn't matter._  
><em>You're my experimental game, just human nature.<em>  
><em>It's not what good girls do, not how they should behave.<em>  
><em>My head gets so confused, hard to obey.<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>


	3. Waking Up in Vegas

**Song: Waking up in Vegas  
>Characters: Hermione and Draco<strong>

_Don't be a baby_  
><em>Remember what you told me<em>  
><em>Shut up and put your money where your mouth is<em>  
><em>That's what you get for waking up in Vegas<em>  
><em>Get up and shake the glitter off your clothes now<em>  
><em>That's what you get for waking up in Vegas<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>

There were just certain activities Hermione Granger didn't do. She didn't drink more than a glass at a time. She didn't strike up conversations with random strangers. She didn't grab onto those random stranger's arm and say, "Let's go somewhere special." Hermione had very good reasons for not doing these activities. Caving into them led her to some pretty strange places.

Hermione had been to Paris, Venice, and Dublin on such trips. Luckily, the first two had been with Ron, her at-the-time boyfriend. Then she'd done it again the night they'd broken up. She still couldn't look Seamus Finnigan in the eye. After vowing that it wouldn't happen again, Hermione made her rules.

Then she broke them.

The room was spinning. Hermione groaned and closed her eyes again. Raising a heavy arm, she ran a hand through the hair splayed on her pillow. It was covered in something small, gritty, and plastic. She picked a piece of the plastic out and held it directly before her now squinting eyes. It sparkled. Confetti?

She groaned, squeezed her eyes shut, and rolled over. Right into another body. Hermione leaped forward away from it, activating her headache and all but killing her. She forced her eyes open to see who it was.

No way. She was in bed with Draco Malfoy.

Hermione stared in shock at the messy blonde hair that stuck out in all directions, despite his head being firmly planted on a pillow. His entire body rested in a curve facing her, one arm and his legs stretching into what had probably started out as her space. Had they fallen asleep spooning? His other arm was folded back so his wrist and hand were supporting his neck. She wondered absent-mindedly if the circulation pinch was putting his limb to sleeve.

She jerked away, nearly tumbling off the bed as he moved. Draco's legs kicked feebly and his arm slid out from under his neck. Both hands stretched out as if searching for her. Scooting as far over as possible without sitting up, Hermione watched as he found her pillow, apparently decided it was suitable, and clutched it to his chest. Hermione took a moment to appreciate the cuteness of a twenty-six year-old man cuddling a pillow before lifting her pounding head to search the room around them.

It wasn't her room, though she knew from the unfamiliar sheets that it wouldn't be. She highly doubted it was Draco's either. It looked like a hotel room, although it was a bit different than any she'd stayed in before. The room was relatively spacious, with a moderate-sized living room area, across from which was, strangely enough, a large bathtub. She felt her cheeks lighting up as she wondered if they'd used it the night before. The sheets felt dry so she assumed no. With a sigh she laid back to stare at the ceiling. There she found the most embarrassing amenity yet. Only above the bed was the ceiling actually a mirror.

Hermione groaned and threw her hands up over her face. What had she gotten into last night? As the bed shifted, she froze. Please, she begged silently, don't let Draco be awake. They'd overcome their differences since the war had ended, but that didn't mean she wanted him to wake up with her in his bed.

No such luck. "Good morning," he said, his cheerful tone splitting her eardrums.

"Skip the pleasantries, Draco," she hissed.

"Someone isn't a morning person."

She moved her hands to glare at him. "Shove off. How are you so chipper anyway? I bet you were drunker than I was."

He chuckled, the sound grating her brain. "It's called an anti-hangover potion. I have no headache and a perfect memory of what happened last night."

"This is why I don't drink," she groaned and flopped her head back down onto the bed, her pillow having been stolen. She could do nothing but stare at her reflection. Draco glanced up and caught her eye in the mirror. He smirked. She growled deep in her throat, turning on her side and tightening the blanket around her.

"You know you were quite fond of that mirror last night."

She sent him a nasty look through the mirror and said nothing.

"Have you ever considered taking a week off for a little fun?"

Hermione jerked around. "Not with you," she snapped. "Where are we anyway?"

"Vegas."

"America?"

He nodded. "You work too much."

She glanced at him over her shoulder in surprise. "How would you know?" she retorted.

Draco smirked again. "You told me."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I did."

"I'm serious. Last night you said so before we came here."

"Where is here exactly?"

"The Imperial Palace Hotel. You told me you were overworked and needed more fun. You told me to give you a little fun. I could give you a little more fun." She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to stop her. "I will give you a week here in a fun and strange place with me, no strings attached. You won't have any obligation to me after the week's over."

Hermione sat up, keeping the blanket carefully wrapped around her shoulders. "This sounds like a great offer. You get sex and I go broke in Las Vegas casinos."

Shaking his head, Draco replied, "We can use my money. Besides," he smirked, "you said a lot of things last night. Why don't you put my money where your mouth is?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Instead she wrapped the blanket around herself and searched out her clothes. "They're covered in glitter!" she exclaimed, realizing that was what probably was in her hair.

He laughed. "You won about 5,000 American dollars last night and got shot with a glitter cannon."

She stared at him in surprise. "I- I did?"

Draco nodded. "I guess you have that beginner's luck. Now, are you in for another week?"

Looking back on it, Hermione wished she could say she'd spent hours on the decision. Instead she'd shaken as much glitter as possible off her dress and said, "I'll need to floo home and let everyone know I'm taking my vacation days."

Three days later, Hermione was feeling reckless. She'd won money, lost possibly two times as much, drank, had fun in their hotel room, and danced at muggle clubs. Never in her life had Hermione felt so wild and indestructible.

Draco, on the other hand, was looking a little worse for wear. The money lost wasn't enough to seriously impact him, but it was still money lost. His hangover potion had mysteriously gone missing, Hermione being the hangover-free suspect. When he wasn't too drunk to remember, their hotel room was a pretty appealing place., but muggle clubs were going to be the death of him, he decided.

Anytime Draco complained, Hermione would roll her eyes and reply, "Remember what you told me. One week in Vegas. I'm not going back to work early or sitting at home."

Their fifth morning in Vegas was the weirdest yet. Surrounding their bed was more glitter than Hermione had ever seen before coming here. They woke up, Hermione literally on top of Draco, and both immediately noticed the ring.

It was a family heirloom that had been passed on down the Malfoy line for generations. Not one of those Malfoys had to resize it, thanks to the enchantment that did so. Now, the ring was on Hermione left hand.

"What happened?" he gasped, pushing her off him as he sat up. Hermione just looked up at him in surprise. "Well?"

She shook her head. "I didn't take the anti-hangover potion last night."

Draco sighed and thanked Merlin for another enchantment of the ring. "Try to take it off," he commanded. "Regardless of who's wearing it, the ring can only be removed by a Malfoy."

Hermione gave the ring a quick tug. The ring moved to her knuckle before resizing itself so it couldn't come off. She let go.

Draco took a deep breath of relief. That would have been difficult to explain to his parents and friends, not to mention hers. He reached forward and slid the ring off her finger. "Are you done with Vegas now?"

Hermione laughed. "Done? How could I be done? You, Draco, promised me two more days here."

_You gotta help me out_  
><em>It's all a blur last night<em>  
><em>We need a taxi 'cause you're hung-over and I'm broke<em>  
><em>I lost my fake ID but you lost the motel key<em>  
><em>Spare me your freakin' dirty looks<em>  
><em>Now don't blame me<em>  
><em>You want to cash out and get the hell out of town<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>


	4. Thinking of You

**Song: Thinking of You  
>Characters: Ginny and Harry<strong>

_Cause when I'm with him_  
><em>I am thinking of you<em>  
><em>Thinking of you <em>  
><em>What you would do if<em>  
><em>You were the one <em>  
><em>Who was spending the night<em>  
><em>Oh I wish that I<em>  
><em>Was looking into your eyes<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>

If he was worried about her getting hurt, how could Harry leave her? As far as Ginny was concerned, Harry was her perfect match. No one she'd ever dated made her feel what Harry did. She could sit with Harry in the common room, have his arms around her, and wouldn't have to speak. They could have silence surrounded by people and still be completely at peace together. No one had given her that.

Being with Harry had been perfect. They had even had a perfect start. The Quidditch Cup had just been won and all of Gryffindor was in a celebratory mood. Harry had come in - she hadn't planned on doing anything, but she had hugged him rather tightly. Then he'd kissed her, right there in front of their whole house. She'd never felt so free. Their walk around the castle after had been even more perfect. They'd started just talking about Quidditch, but then they'd branched out to classes, the future, and even kissed a few more times.

It was so much better than a boy swaggering up to her and saying, "Will you go out with me?" while all his friends stood a few feet away, waiting for the triumph or rejection.

In truth, she'd always wanted to be with Harry. Dating other boys, she'd compare them to her idea of what Harry would be like. She'd kissed Michael and Dean, feeling horrid with both boys that she was pretending it was someone else. Would Harry kiss like them? The comparisons were fuzzy then, since she didn't really know how Harry would actually react in any given situation. Almost every fiber of her being had been sure Harry wouldn't fight with her like Dean did. She knew they'd probably fight, but Dean was rediculous. He second-guessed every move she made and was overly critical. Harry was nothing like that. She'd been fairly sure, but her predictions weren't completely solid. Now she'd spent enough time with him to predict his actions to a T. One look in his eyes after Dumbledore's funeral had told her exactly what he was about to do.

"Ginny, listen. I can't be involved with you anymore. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together."

His words hurt, but she'd seen them coming. Trying to put on a brave face she replied, "It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it?"

"It's been like... like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you, but I can't... we can't... I've got things to do alone now."

Harry looked like he wanted to either run and hide or sweep her up and say he didn't mean it. She didn't respond.

"Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to. He's already used you as bait once, and that was just because you're my best friend's sister. Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up. He'll know, he'll find out. He'll try and get to me through you."

"What if I don't care?" she asked.

"I care," he said, as quietly as possible. How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral... and it was my fault..."

Harry's face was completely worn up. She couldn't look at him. "I never really gave up on you," she had found herself saying. "Not really. I always hoped... Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more... myself.

"Smart girl, that Hermione is," Harry said with a smile. "I just wish I'd asked you sooner. We could've had ages... months...years maybe."

Ginny had blown it off at the time to him, putting on a "brave face." Really she'd been crushed that entire summer, feeling awful that she felt such compulsions to hide it from him and her entire family. The truth was... Ginny needed him. On his birthday, she'd kissed him in one last effort to get him back. It might have worked if Ron hadn't interrupted them. Not twos later, he was gone. He'd left her at the Burrow while he, Ron, and Hermione went traipsing about undercover. Of course he couldn't have stayed with her, but the least he could have done was take her with them.

Once school started, times with Harry became a haunting memory.

That char in the common room was theirs. The Fat Lady had caught them kissing in that corridor once on her way back from visiting Violet. Ginny couldn't even go through the school day without wondering how Harry had done with a particular spell or potion. How would he have reacted to the Carrows? Even Umbridge had been better than them, although Ginny had heard she'd turned into a right evil witch over at the ministry.

After their little rebellions at school had started, Ginny had found herself comparing Neville's leadership to Harry's. They had surprisingly similar styles. Ginny would have suspected Neville of mimicry if it hadn't seemed so easy for him. It was like a little leader had been hidden inside him waiting to hatch. She smiled at it, though sadly because it did remind her so much of Harry.

Even falling asleep was impossible without thinking of Harry. She'd fall asleep wishing she knew at least where he was. Why couldn't he have taken her with him? He was everywhere for Ginny. She could practically see him sitting in the common room or at the burrow. She'd give anything to see him for real.

Harry had always been her ideal.

_Comparisons are easily done_  
><em>Once you've had a taste of perfection<em>  
><em>Like an apple hanging from a tree<em>  
><em>I picked the ripest one<em>  
><em>I still got the seed<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>


	5. Mannequin

**Song: Mannequin  
>Characters: Pansy and Draco<strong>

_I wanna hit you_  
><em>Just to see<em>  
><em>If you cry<em>  
><em>I keep knocking on wood<em>  
><em>Hoping there's<em>  
><em>A real boy inside<em>

_But you're not a man_  
><em>You're just a mannequin<em>  
><em>I wish you could feel<em>  
><em>That my love is real<em>  
><em>But you're not a man<em>  
>~Katy Perry<p>

Draco had told Pansy she didn't need to concern herself about him. He was fine. But she just couldn't help it. He wasn't himself...

"What's wrong, Draco?" she asked as he entered the common room.

"It's after midnight. Why aren't you in bed?" he asked, ignoring her question.

She narrowed her eyes. "I could ask you the same. As it is, you aren't answering what I do ask."

He sighed. "It's nothing, Pansy. I'm just tired."

Pansy visibly brightened, although she thought to herself, you wouldn't be so tired if you weren't wandering around the castle so late. "Well if that's all... I was afraid something was really wrong." She paused. "You'd tell me if something really was wrong, wouldn't you, Draco?"

He smiled, an obviously forced fake, and replied, "Of course I would."

She smiled back, looking as genuine as ever. "I thought so."

Pansy watched as Draco strode across the room and into his dorm room. She sighed as soon as he was out of sight. She'd put up with him for years. After all this time, she knew when he was lying to her.

Their sixth year wasn't going to way she'd wanted it to. At the beginning of the term, Draco had been cocky and shown her attention. Now he was changing.

Pansy Parkinson was nobody's fool and nobody's play thing. Nobody, that is, except Draco Malfoy. Throughout their time at Hogwarts and even before, he'd played with her emotions in ways she didn't understand. She'd formed rules around his attitute patterns.

It was a good day when Draco let her sit next to him on the common room couch and hold his hand... or when she could come up behind him and give him a shoulder massage. It was a really good day when he'd smile and talk to her.

On a not-so-good day, he'd have nothing to do with her. Lately, everyday had been a not-so-good day.

Pansy was sick of being ignored. She could tell he got a rise out of her attempted flirting, but she hardly saw it. It didn't really matter, though, because he was less and less concerned about her.

The Draco that Pansy knew and even loved was fading into a man that was hardly there. He didn't antagonize, didn't care about prefect duties, and didn't even try in Quidditch.

Quidditch had been a big deal to Draco. She'd seen him viciously attack anyone who said he didn't deserve his spot on the team, regardless of whether or not they were Slytherin and even a couple of his teammates over the years. Now he was skipping practices, not trying in the ones he went to, and letting his reserve substitute during games. That wasn't like Draco.

Pansy hoped and hoped that he would let her in soon. She kept trying and he kept lying, and nothing was working out. Every part of the man she desired was quickly disappearing. He was hardly a man at all.

_If the past is the problem,_  
><em>our future could solve them, baby<em>  
><em>I could bring you to life<em>  
><em>if you let me inside, baby<em>  
><em>It'll hurt<em>  
><em>but in the end,<em>  
><em>you'll be a man<em>  
><em>And understand<em>  
><em>That you're not a man<br>~Katy Perry_


	6. Ur So Gay

**Song: Ur So Gay  
>Characters: Astoria and Theodore<strong>

_You're so gay and you don't even like boys_  
><em>No you don't even like<em>  
><em>No you don't even like <em>  
><em>No you don't even like boys<em>  
><em>You're so gay and you don't even like boys<em>  
><em>No you don't even like<em>  
><em>No you don't even like <em>  
><em>No you don't even like…<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>

Astoria picked her men very carefully, but even she made mistakes. Theodore Nott was a mistake, but she couldn't break up with him yet because she hadn't seen any better offers. Besides, most of the world was foolish enough to believe he was normal.

He was not normal.

"Why did we have to take the muggle way?" Theodore moaned, tapping his fingers on the tiny car's steering wheel.

Astoria rolled her eyes and said, "You wanted to."

He turned to her with an exasperated look on his face. "You should really know better than to indulge in my every whim."

She quickly turned away so he wouldn't see her smiling about his use of the word indulge while speaking of muggle cars. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she replied faintly. "Where are we going anyway?"

With a quick smile, Theodore said, "It's this wonderful little vegan cafe I found online. I've been meaning to check it out for weeks." He sends a quick glance in her direction. "You don't mind, do you?"

She flashes him a dashing smile. "Of course not. Why would I mind?" Astoria doesn't like to go to muggle cafes, she hates exploring the places Theodore finds on muggle computers, and she's far from a vegan.

He didn't reply so they lapsed into silence until they reached the restaurant. Theodore slunk out of the driver's seat before glancing back in at Astoria. After receiving her pointed gaze, he glided around the car and opened her door.

"Thank you," she said, gracefully climbing out. "This is the place?"

Theodore nodded. "Isn't it just to die for?"

Astoria was glad his question was rhetorical as she followed him inside. It didn't look like much.

The waitress referred them to their seats, Theodore sliding Astoria's chair to the table once she'd sat down. She couldn't help but beam with pride that he was relearning the pureblood manners he'd evidently forgotten.

As he sat, Theodore looked up at the pale landscape painted and framed on the wall beside their table. "Hills like white elephants," he sighed.

Astoria turned her head sharply, the reference not escaping her. "What's that?"

Theodore gestured grandly to the painting. "Why can't we ever go anywhere as poetic and exciting as that?"

Astoria grit her teeth, knowing full well that her mother would gasp in horror at such an unladylike act. "Because those places only exist in paintings and postcards."

"Postcards must come from somewhere," he pointed out.

She sighed. "Find a place that pretty, and I'd love to go with you. I'm sure we could have some fun." She raised an eyebrow, creating what she knew to be an irresistibly sultry look.

Theodore didn't even notice. "I think I will." He snapped his fingers for their waitress. "Let's just have an espresso and than I'll check online."

Astoria turned her attention to the ground. Why was such an unmanly catch considered a great find?

_I hope you hang yourself with your H&M scarf_  
><em>While jacking off listening to Mozart<em>  
><em>You bitch and moan about LA<em>  
><em>Wishing you were in the rain reading Hemingway <em>  
><em>You don't eat meat<em>  
><em>And drive electrical cars<em>  
><em>You're so indie rock it's almost an art<em>  
><em>You need SPF 45 just to stay alive<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>


	7. Hot n Cold

**Song: Hot n Cold**  
><strong>Characters: Lavender and Ron<strong>

_Cause you're hot then you're cold_  
><em>You're yes then you're no<em>  
><em>You're in then you're out<em>  
><em>You're up then you're down<em>  
><em>You're wrong when it's right<em>  
><em>It's black and it's white<em>  
><em>We fight, we break up<em>  
><em>We kiss, we make up<em>  
><em>(you) You don't really want to stay, no<em>  
><em>(but you) But you don't really want to go-o<em>  
><em>You're hot then you're cold<em>  
><em>You're yes then you're no<em>  
><em>You're in then you're out<em>  
><em>You're up then you're down<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>

Lavender Brown was the luckiest girl around. Ron Weasley had chosen her out of all the girls at Hogwarts. It was just so exciting! All her friends envied her. And why shouldn't they? Ron was handsome, funny, the Gryffindor keeper, Harry Potter's best friend, and an amazing kisser. She was lucky to have nabbed him now while he was still an option.

Early on in their relationship, all they'd done was snog, which Lavender had no problem with of course, but she'd find him in the common room talking to Hermione Granger. With any other guy, Lavender wouldn't have been worried, but this was Ron. He'd been friends with the frumpy, bookworm since first year, and anyone could see that he thought he had some kind of claim over her. Yes, Ron was the only man in the world she needed to worry about Hermione stealing.

She quickly learned how to drive Hermione away. The girl couldn't stand PDA, and that was what Ron and Lavender were best at. She'd simply flaunt over whenever they talked and hang on him in some fashion. Her competition never made it two minutes in the same room as them.

After a while, Ron didn't like to do this anymore. He'd still snog her anywhere with anyone around, but it wasn't at any time like it used to be. Ron had a distance about him that was slowly growing. He'd snap at her, "I don't have time for this! We have a match tomorrow. I need to focus." It also didn't take a potions master to figure out he was using her to get on Hermione's nerves. It got to a point where he was his cuddliest only when the bookworm, or someone who would tell her, was around. Ron would laugh and jest at Hermione during class while they were fighting, and Lavender would play along, knowing full-well what it meant for her.

Ron didn't need her. Ron didn't even want her. All he was in it for was the snogging and gossip. When they were alone, he'd even yell at her sometimes. Nothing Lavender did anymore was right.

"I'm so tired, Lav," he groaned, slumping back on the desk of the empty classroom they'd found.

"What's wrong?" she purred, leaning close to him.

Ron tilted his head to the side to capture a quick french kiss, which she willingly gave. "I'm sore from all the Quidditch practice. Harry's been drilling us nonstop."

"Well it's made you amazing," Lavender said. She reached up to give him a shoulder massage.

Jerking away, Ron stood facing her. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed.

"What?" she asked, feebly, wishing he would be less tense.

"The practice has made me amazing? You said I was amazing from the start!"

Lavender bit her lip. "You were, are! It's made you even more amazing." She stepped behind him to resume his shoulder massage.

"Stop that," he snapped, twitching away. "I hate that shoulder rubbing!"

"But I thought you liked it," she protested. "You've always let me do it before."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I've always put up with it before, but I'm sick of letting you do little things that you think are cute and drive me insane!"

Lavender felt her lip quivering at his hurtful words. "I- I would have stopped if you'd have just told me."

"I'm telling you now."

She sighed and sat back on a desk, facing away from him. When the door opened and then swung shut, she flinched, knowing that their cutesy PDA phase was long over and never coming back.

Lavender wasn't Hermione.

_Someone call the doctor_  
><em>Got a case of a love bi-polar<em>  
><em>Stuck on a roller coaster<em>  
><em>Can't get off this ride<em>  
><em>You change your mind<em>  
><em>Like a girl changes clothes<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>


	8. If You Can Afford Me

**Song: If You Can Afford Me  
><strong>**Characters: Astoria and George, Pansy**

_If you want me, it takes more than a wink,_  
><em>And more than a drink and more than you think.<em>  
><em>If you want me you're gonna have to break the bank, tonight.<em>  
><em>Cause some don't have the patience, some call me high-maintenance<em>  
><em>But you pay the bill, cause, that's the deal.<em>

_If you wanna ride, just name your price don't play cheap, with your heart_  
><em>Don't make a bet if you can't write the check, for me, for me.<em>  
><em>Cause I can be bought, but you'll pay the cost<em>  
><em>If you can afford me<br>~Katy Perry_

"Hello darling."

Many women would have been startled had a male voice suddenly grazed their ears, but not Astoria. She took a quick breath, batted her eyes, and turned around with a pleasant smile placed on her lips, the perfect example of doe-eyed innocence.

Her smile slipped ever so slightly as she realized it was only George Weasley. Her parents would have quite a stint should they see her on the arm of a bloodtraitor. It could be amusing, she decided, especially since his joke shop was doing well and probably making a small fortune every day. Plus, it would make her best friend absolutely scream.

"Hello there, Weasley," she greeted smoothly. "I wouldn't have expected to see you here in Hogsmeade. Business branching out?"

...

"You're a real bitch Astoria!" George yelled, absolutely fuming.

Astoria reopened the door. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Georgie," she replied with sarcastic sincerity. "Maybe you should learn to put a little more time and money into your investments."

He stared at her in shock for a moment. "You're insane!"

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "And you're a joker. We could have worked for a while. Pity. You didn't even get to meet my parents."

Astoria shut the door in his flabbergasted face and glided into the sitting room. It really was a pity. George had been a nice guy, but during the two months they'd been seeing each other, the finest place he'd taken her was the new coffee shop in Diagon Alley. That had also been the only occasion the press had stumbled across them. It had taken her days to soothe George's hurt feelings over being referred to as her play-toy, nevermind any truth it might have held.

She had only one regret from breaking off their relationship. He'd been fantastic in bed. Astoria could only begin to imagine how kinky life could have been had his twin survived the war.

Her fireplace crackled. "Astoria?"

"Hello there, Pansy," she replied with a coy smile. "How are things with you and little Ronny?"

She glared. "That's why I'm here. Ron's brother asked him to watch the shop for the day." She paused, as though waiting for Astoria to contribute. She didn't.

Pansy continued, "He returned less than an hour later, red in the face and swearing his bottom off. How could you, Astoria? He really liked you."

The blonde sighed and tossed her hair back. "I know he liked me, but I'm afraid the feeling wasn't mutual. George was nice, but he's not what I'm looking for."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "You're looking to become a trophy wife. Need I remind you what an awful ambition that is?"

"I'm not like you, Pansy," Astoria responded coolly. "I'm not a piece of ass." Her friend gasped, but Astoria gave her no time to have her say. "I've never had, nor do I ever plan to have, a one night stand. Need I remind _you_ that was your first move with any rich men. My men have to earn a spot in my bedroom."

"George earned that."

"George was fun, but George was a fling." She sighed. "I do wish he was more marriage material. It might have lasted a little longer."

Pansy shook her head in the fireplace. "You need to stop being so high-maintenance." She disappeared in a flourish of green flames.

Astoria sighed again. Her friend was partially right, of course, but she didn't understand anymore. She and Ron had found something, and now they were engaged. Astoria had been outranked as Maid of Honor by Ron's sister, whom Astoria felt was a horrendous pick because she'd gone and gotten herself knocked up by the golden boy and would be eight months along at the wedding.

Pansy had found love, nevermind its lack of money. Astoria envied that. George had been her attempt at recreating Pansy's happiness. It hadn't worked.

Well if you can't find love, at least find a little happiness and fire. Draco Malfoy had broken up with her sister rather publicly a month ago. That could be interesting.

_If you want me, then stop begging I don't put out for charity_  
><em>If you want me there's no discount price tonight<em>  
><em>But I don't need your dollar bills I just want something real<em>  
><em>Cause, nothing's free, except a lovin' me<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>


	9. Lost

**Song: Lost  
>Characters: Ginny, Molly, Harry, and some muggle OCs<strong>

_I'm out on my own again_  
><em>Face down in the porcelain<em>  
><em>Feeling so high but looking so low<em>  
><em>Party favors on the floor<em>  
><em>Group of girls banging on the door<em>  
><em>So many new fair-weather friends<em>  
><em>Have you ever been so lost<em>  
><em>Known the way and still so lost<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>

Ginny pressed the button on her phone to access her voicemail and put it on speaker.

It was from Cameron. "Hey girl! What's up? Jessie said you guys partied hard last night, but we're all gonna hit this new club tonight. You interested? Text me back if your coming. Bye."

Ginny groaned and collapsed onto her bed. Partied hard last night was an understatement. She and Jessie had gone without the rest of the group last night and gotten completely wasted. Jessie had ended up going home with a random guy, leaving Ginny puking in the bar bathroom. She'd been so trashed that she hadn't even stopped to worry about muggles before apperating to her flat. Having spent the rest of the night alone, heaving over her toilet, she wasn't too keen about doing it again.

But she'd never hear the end of it if she missed breaking in a new club.

...

"You ready?" Cameron burst through the door as soon as Ginny opened it, followed quickly by Jessie, Megan, Kevin, and Marissa.

Ginny grinned. "Well duh! Where are we headed tonight?"

"This new place called The Devil's Poison," Marissa replied with a shiver. "Sounds so creepy and intriguing!"

"It's just a couple blocks away," Megan added.

The girls laughed and chattered as they left Ginny's first floor flat and strolled off for the club. After only a couple hours, the girls had made the decision that this club was totally lame compared to Fabric, which was undoubtedly one of the best clubs in London. Ginny purposely didn't drink tonight. It wasn't worth the hang over two days in a row.

Instead she stayed out on the dance floor. The party might not have been very good, but didn't mean she couldn't pretend she was somewhere else. Ginny liked big crowds. Having grown up in one, it was how she felt most comfortable. Here, there was room to move around. That wasn't how she liked it.

"What's your name, little lady?" a man asked as he sidled up closely behind her.

"What's it to you?" she replied.

He laughed. "Feisty. I like that."

Ginny had been through this a thousand times. Normally she'd giggle like a little girl and take him to bed. But she'd had enough of it. It happened way too often.

She turned to face him. "Sorry, darling. I'm not that kind of girl." At the look on his face, she batted her eyes just to piss him off.

"Fine bitch!" he snapped. "I didn't want you anyway." The man walked away with hardly a backward glance. She knew as he did that he could find a dozen other tramps in the building, her friends among them.

Ginny glanced around and could find only Marissa, Megan, and Kevin. Marissa was at the bar while Megan and Kevin were grinding on the same guy. Ginny rolled her eyes. She was sure her friends wouldn't miss her too terribly if she left early. A quick stop in the bathroom, and she was gone.

When she was back in her bedroom, a short rapping sound captured her attention. Another owl.

Ginny sighed and went to receive Forge, her family's new owl. She knew his name only because her mother had put it in her last letter. As usual, she hadn' responded

She tore the paper off the owl's leg and read it.

_Dear Ginny,_

_It's been a very long time since we heard from you. Your father is beginning to wonder if you're still alive. I told him not to think that way. After all, you've been receiving our letters, even if you won't acknowledge them. Forge would have brought them back otherwise._

_We love you, you know._

_Harry misses you. I know you won't believe me, but he hardly leaves the Burrow aside from work. He's been promoted. Kingsley told Arther it's because Harry's such a hard worker. I think it's because he's doesn't do anything but work. He hardly ever goes out. Ron tells me a few girls at the ministry have asked him for dates and he frequently gets admirers on the few occasions he does go out, but he wants nothing to do with any of them. He told Ron, "They aren't Ginny."_

Ginny took a shaky breath and tore her eyes off the parchment. Harry couldn't miss her. He couldn't want her. She'd left because he didn't.

They couldn't go out in public without being followed. Anywhere they'd gone together or apart, they were trailed. At least when Harry was with her, none of the stalkers had talked to her. Without him... She'd been confronted more than once telling her to stay away from Harry. She'd even gotten death threats. Her mother had stopped answering all mail that was sent to the house unless it was labeled with the sender on the outside or from a familiar owl.

The stress had been about to make Ginny crack. She'd known even back in her fifth year that dating The Chosen One wasn't socially easy, but it hadn't been that bad then. Her exterior had become a smiling facade while her inner self slowly had a meltdown. Then her dam had broke.

Wanting to surprise Harry at work, Ginny had flooed to the Ministry before his lunch break. Her mission had been simple and innocent enough, but she'd open his office door to see him lip-locked with that slut who'd come as the assistant to the French ambassador. Harry was pulling away from the girl as Ginny ran from his office. "Ginny!" he'd called after her to no avail.

She'd gone straight home. Since her mother was out shopping, she had the house to herself. The first thing she'd done was limit the floo network so full bodies could not come in. She hadn't even put her wand down when Harry's head appeared.

"Let me in," he had begged as she walked away. Ginny rounded the corner and stood to listen where he couldn't see her. "Ginny!" he called again. "I swear nothing was happening. She came at me. She kissed me right as you came in. I promise nothing would have come of it."

"I don't believe you!" she shouted around the corner and in that split second, she chose to completely give up the Wizarding world. Harry and the paparazzi were going to haunt for the rest of her life as long as she lived like a witch. The muggle world was a much better option.

She had apperated away to the only muggle club she'd ever been to. There she'd run into Jessie and Kevin, two girls who'd shown her how to party and have a good time. At least, it had started as a good time. Now it was just tiresome.

_You should come home. Whatever you've done, we'll forgive you. We're your family, Ginny. Your father and I need our daughter, your brothers need their sister, and Harry need the girl he loves. I can probably guess that you need us too. Please sweetheart, three years is a long time.. I know you probably feel a little lost, but we can find you._

_We love you,_  
><em>Mum<em>

Ginny sniffed and wiped away the tears forming in her eyes. Three years was a long time, especially in the club world of London. Could she even go back? Had she changed too much to live under the same roof as her family? No one except her mother had attempted to contact her after the first three months. They'd all given up on her. She'd given up on herself.

But her mother hadn't, and apparently Harry hadn't.

Ginny took a deep breath and put the parchment with all the other notes her mother had sent her. Then she plucked up at ballpoint pen and a piece of paper.

_Dear Mum..._

_Caught in the eye of a hurricane  
>Slowly waving goodbye like a pageant parade<br>So sick of this town pulling me down  
>My mother says I should come back home but<br>Can't find the way cause the way is gone  
>So if I pray am I just sending words into outer space<br>~Katy Perry  
><em>


	10. Self Inflicted

**Song: Self-Inflicted  
><strong>**Characters: Hermione and Ron**

_I can't stop_  
><em>Don't care if I lose<em>  
><em>Baby you are the weapon I choose<em>  
><em>These wounds are self inflicted<em>  
><em>I'm going down in flames for you<em>  
><em>Baby you are the weapon I choose<em>  
><em>These wounds are self inflicted<em>  
><em>One more thing I'm addicted to<br>__~Katy Perry_

Ron didn't care about Hermione all the time, but making him care was quickly becoming her addiction.

Right from the start Hermione had noticed it. He and Harry had saved her from the troll in first year, after which he'd been overly concerned about her for a couple days. The same had happened after she'd been revived from the Basilisk attack in second year. Third year had solidified her theory when she and Harry helped Sirius Black escape. Ron hadn't really known what was up, but he'd been confused by whatever it was. After learning she'd nearly been attacked by a werewolf without him, he'd clung to her side until school got out.

Fourth year was off to a bumpy start with Harry and Rons' ridiculous fight. She'd told them both off for making her choose, and Ron had responded by being overly nice. That coupled with Viktor Krum's attention had made Hermione feel wanted. When Draco Malfoy had embarrassed her by enlarging her teeth in the hallway duel, Ron had again reacted strongly. Then the Yule Ball had brought out his bitter and jealous side. If Hermione was going to choose another man then he was going to take pleasure in making her suffer.

Their brushes with danger and death in fifth and sixth year had been similar. They brought Hermione to one conclusion. Ron cared most when he was at risk of losing her.

After they'd gone into hiding, she'd had "accidents" while cooking. Harry had hardly seemed to notice them since she could heal her own cuts and burns, but Ron acted as though the sky were on its way down. She'd loved it and the locket had brought her self-inflicted wounds and neediness for Ron to full bloom.

When Ron left, she'd screamed after him. Hermione had pleaded for his understanding and begged him to stay. "I need you!" she'd sobbed as he walked away.

Harry tried to be understanding, but his comforting words just weren't enough. Hermione had taken to pricking her fingers with a needle at night just so she could imagine Ron kissing them "better." She knew it was twisted, but she couldn't help it. It was her private addiction, her only link to Ron.

While twirling her wand one day, she'd stupidly blasted a minor laceration spell at her own leg. She had the magic to hide it from Harry so she did... over and over.

Then Ron returned. Along with Hermione's relief came anger. Her destructive ways were entirely his fault. She'd only done it for him and in memory of him. She'd used her fists and surprisingly obscene language to try and tell him -without telling him - exactly what she'd gone through with him gone. It wasn't fair.

Being tortured by Bellatrix hurt more than the most intense pain she could imagine, but part of her noticed how Ron reacted. He'd turned into an animal as he screamed for her safety. She dwelled on it long after, and her twisted mind loved it.

The Battle of Hogwarts had left her with hardly a scratch. She couldn't reunite with Ron like that! They'd kissed in the middle of it after all.

When he found her, she was (half-heartedly) healing a huge gash on her arm. He'd scooped her up into his arms and promised she'd be okay.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder how long she'd be hurting herself for him. She loved Ron, but she needed to quit her addiction.

_And I cover up these scars_  
><em>We'll make it, we'll make it but we break it<em>  
><em>And I can't stop seeing stars<em>  
><em>lets hope not die<br>__Whenever you're around_  
><em>Around<br>__~Katy Petty_


	11. I'm Still Breathing

**Song: I'm Still Breathing  
>Characters: Hermione and Ron<strong>

_'Cause I'm still breathing_  
><em>But we've been<em>  
><em>Dead for awhile<em>  
><em>This sickness has no cure<em>  
><em>We're going down for sure<em>  
><em>Already lost our grip<em>  
><em>Best abandon ship<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>

The Prophet can't get enough of us. Anytime Ron and I go out together, we're followed by reporters looking for a romantic gesture. If one of us goes out alone, they run a story speculating whether or not there's another man/woman in our picture.

Those stories could become true soon.

I'd like to blame the media for tearing us apart, but I don't believe the blame is truly on them. Ron and i live in the same flat, but we don't live together. Half the time Ron goes out, and I've taken to working late at the ministry so one of us is always "asleep" when the other comes to bed. On the nights that we are both home, Ron turns on the television or plays Wizard Chess on the single-player board. I read or do work. Either way, I'm in my office.

We just don't interact. I want to talk about it, but it's hard to talk without words. Why bother? The feeling is tangible whenever we're in the same room.

When I was young, I'd imagined I loved him. Maybe I did, but it wasn't the right kind of love. I now know that I love him similar to the way I love Harry. It's sibling-like emotion. For Ron I also feel a mix of infatuation. I'd seen that Ron needed some love and I'd given it. I'd hoped he would return it.

During the war, I thought that love was real after he returned and when I was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. He'd sworn to me that he'd kill the bitch (actually his mother did) while I had admired the hatred he possessed over the incident. That had to be loving protection, right? I don't think it was. Ron was fiercely protective of me in a way that displayed jealously. I'd seen it at the Yule Ball and I would see it again after the war ended when men approached me. Ron's jealously made me stop to talking to strangers, and the news stories made me stop talking around reporters.

Harry and Ginny, our biggest supporters in the beginning, began to cautiously hint for me to break up with him. I said I couldn't and wouldn't because Ron needed he does, but his mum is perfectly capable of caring for him.

"Ron," I finally said, after months of revising my mental speech. My moping hadn't bothered Ron all he hardly saw it.

"Yes, Hermione?" he asked, not looking up from the kitchen table where he was sipping a cup of coffee.

"Ron, we need to talk," I'd summed up all my courage to say those words. Where was my Gryffindor heart, I wondered as his eyes rendered me speechless.

"What about?"

"You know what." It was true. His face said he had also been preparing for our argument and was ready to dispute all my points.

"We can work through this," he promised.

I shook my head. "We can't. Ron, we've been avoiding this for months, almost a year. Think about how much time that's wasted."

"It's not a waste. We've had such great times." His face falls as he realizes the blatant lie he's just told. "Hermione, I l-"

"Don't!"

"But-"

"No, Ron. Don't say you love me. You don't."

"Hermione-"

"It's okay," I reply while looking away. "I don't love you either."

He's silent. I take a chance and glance up at him. It hurts just a bit that his face holds no pain.

"But you did," he finally says.

I sigh. "I did, but you never truly loved me back."

"Yes I-"

"Don't!" I snap. "Don't say that you loved me!" I don't appreciate being lied to. If you loved me, we would have gone somewhere. Ron, our relationship died about a day after our first kiss. We've been living in a ghost ever since."

"You're right," he agrees after about a minute. "I guess I should pack my stuff. I'm sure Mum and Dad wouldn't mind me moving in for a bit."

_Pick your favorite_  
><em>Shade of black<em>  
><em>You'd best<em>  
><em>Prepare a speech<em>  
><em>Say something funny<em>  
><em>Say something sweet<em>  
><em>But don't say<em>  
><em>That you loved me<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>


	12. Fingerprints

**Song: Fingerprints  
>Characters: Hermione, Ginny, Harry, Ron<strong>

_I wanna break the mold, I wanna break the stereotype_  
><em>Fist in the air I'm not going down without a fight<em>  
><em>It's my life and I'm not sitting on the sidelines watching<em>  
><em>It pass me by<em>  
><em>I'm leaving you my legacy<em>  
><em>I gotta make my mark<em>  
><em>I gotta run it hard<em>  
><em>I want you to remember me<em>  
><em>I'm leaving my fingerprints<em>  
><em>I'm leaving my fingerprints<em>  
><em>I'm leaving my fingerprints on you<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>

One would assume that helping take down the most evil Wizard in Britain's history would lead to some sort of glorification. Harry and Ron had taken a shortened Auror training and were thrust immediately into the top ranks of the department. Hermione had chosen magical law enforcement and never even had a chance of moving up.

Hermione received a desk job... sorting non-confidential papers. Even her attendance at department meetings was a joke. She was advised against taking notes and served coffee when the intern was sick. Her boss might have acted like she was performing a muggle heart surgery, but she wasn't convinced.

"Make sure you work hard," her boss had told her.

She'd smiled and said, "I always work hard."

"That's what I like to hear." He'd beamed. "Work hard enough to get noticed, and you could get promoted."

Normally Hermione would take that advice to heart, but how on earth was she to get noticed sorting papers? She spent an entire year doing so, wasting her magic to push papers back and forth. Her bills were barely being paid. It was time to stop settling for her lot in life.

She could carve her own path.

"You quit?" Ginny gasped. "How could you? I thought the ministry was your calling. You said so yourself."

Hermione sighed. "I thought it was, but I'm not filing papers for the rest of my life."

Ginny shook her head. "I don't understand you, Hermione. If it was your passion, you'd stick with it."

Ignoring Ginny, Hermione turned towards the window and looked out on the lawn in front of Ginny and Harrys' house. It was easy for her friend to talk about passion; she was soon starting as a chaser for the Harpies. She wasn't even a reserve.

"Earth to Hermione," Ginny said. "You still listening?"

Hermione took a deep breath and whirled around to face Ginny. "It's my life, right?"

"Right..."

"So why do I have to do what's expected? Why can't I live it my way?"

Ginny had no reply.

Harry and Ron didn't have any better encouragement.

"You're crazy," Ron told her flat out. He wasn't exactly her biggest supporter since they'd broken up the fall before.

Harry wasn't much better. "Are you sure this isn't just a spur of the moment decision?" he asked cautiously. "I have a feeling you'll end up regretting this."

She shook her head. "I chose law enforcement because I thought I'd be making a difference and helping others. I'm not."

"Heaven forbid should your job not measure up to your expectations." Ron rolled his eyes and she glared at him. Not everyone could just hop up and be held in high esteem.

"Are you looking for a job?"

Smiling at Harry, she replied, "Of course. George received my application yesterday."

"_George_?" Both boys appeared to be in shock.

"Hermione-" Harry started to say, but Ron cut him off.

"Are you insane? I would have expected you to try for a bookstore or something. The joke shop? You won't last three days."

Hermione laughed. "I'm sorry I'm not fitting your stereotype of me. Honestly Ronald, people aren't black and white. I'm allowed to act without your predictions." She lifted a small handful of powder out of the little pot by the fire. "Besides," she said as she glanced back at the boys she'd laughed with and cried with for years, "it's more fun to be unpredictable."

Aware of exactly how un-Hermione she currently sounded, she tossed the floo powder into the fire and yelled, "Malfoy Manor."

Being unpredictable was starting to sound like more and more fun.

_Voted most likely to end up on the back of a milk box drink_  
><em>Looks like I'm letting them down<em>  
><em>Cause seven, seventy-five isn't worth an hour of my hard work and time<em>  
><em>When you can't afford half the shit they advertise<em>  
><em>Oh I'm worth more then they ask for then the toe-tag generation full of regret<em>  
><em>Oh I won't settle no, oh I can't settle<em>  
><em>~Katy Perry<em>


End file.
